Parting ways

Just for a while though.

It’s difficult now that me and my girlfriend are living apart.

It’s easy when we can snatch a meeting for a day or two and feel whole again.

It’s hard when we have to part and she's reduced to tears saying “it’s not fair, it’s not fair”. Because it’s not fair, and it’s worth crying over. But even though I offer warmth and a positive outlook I haven’t much else to say.

It’s not fair, and this world is a horrible and unjust place.

I hope you're satisfied.

Halfway To A Full Heart

HALFWAY TO A FULL HEART

Mine and mind again
Flinching with a strange passion for obscurity
This coiled fence I pronounce comfort is rusty and warped
Let it not continue

A false tax is levied against these settled years
A sour fruit of intrepid self-discovery
I agree, it is not a just cause
Only waste

At present the fire is down to mere embers
Hope of summer may prove naïve at best
I perch by the ducts and vents
Give to the poor, less my cold cadaver

I am a penniless bursar corrected with green ink
Winding my fingers in cotton for humour
I am no dreamer, just delusional and starved
A doubting mind in staggering sunsets

Halfway to a full heart
Though still the drips collect as a gaggle
I make circles with this voice and reason
A drought is upon me and I cannot sustain myself

I find your hand is warm
Although the thickets and chimneys crisp over with frost
A virtue in this place is your red lips and furnace
A furnace of spirit

Watch, the patterns are all around your fearless mingling
The pedestrians are fishing nets to catch
The clouds a flurry of tiles to keep out the vengeful bolt
A gust of wind suggests a locomotive, passing

In this deep place we have found ourselves
Narrow and the ancient steps are slippery with dashed hopes
Is it too late for our fortune?
Can we climb to the air?

Together and passing over the divides
The terrible crushing of engines and eyes
Creaking coals to bridge counties and tongues
Be with me and soak up my forgotten spring

Wash this confused man and reveal a face
A lost bird who heads north
You know me well and guide me
The turbulent air, our turbulent beginnings

I am always a faint secondary character
This is not a performance for applause
Without you I remain, as such, only scenery
You hold my head and keep away devils

You have rescued me from a void
This current I feel
This racing wave within
You have propped the banks and opened the gates

I ignore deep waters
I rush to you in truth
I am only yours
I am at peace with you, my love

The Modern Way Out Of Town

THE MODERN WAY OUT OF TOWN

This recons with an argument
Discloses a watchful eye
Be a shadow of your former self or improve
Dye the grass blue to confuse the fox

A stairway for the souls of disturbed ages
Fritter away your payments and passports
Trap yourself in concrete
Debauchery for the kindly bricklayer

A vessel for mortar
A cup for timber
A weary cart for love
The tires are pushing into the mud

Fortune, he craves!!
Watchers from the shards of population
Confused rioters shopping with mirth
They do not know of the chaos

Only charm
We alight to the hills and look at weed
We pick the sun with sticks
Dreary books
Feeding bulls

Whiskey brawls enchant
A new dawn for celebration
No new following
Just empty wallets, fearing the bleached white in your eye

I see, a bold statement!!
Cry at the city below and its lust for life
Primary colour kisses
Winks and pouts

Bickering keepers and the man who is silent
The strange occupation of turning
Turn away and look
Sleep with the rain and wash with the bird

Your food is there
Give me licence to disclose and lie
On your head be it
Lie in wait, I advise

Take the shortcut and nod at doorways
Your father is the earth, spilling seed for a simpler life
Raising you and raising a dagger
He will envelope you and destroy you

Eaten From The Inside

EATEN FROM THE INSIDE

The value and weight
Obstacle and temperament
Bleeding hearts and ravenous sentiment
I know the battlements are raw

A summary of pursuit
I see happiness and dispute
Lay the boundary and walk the path to honest rebellion
Faint praise, no less

But ponder graciously
The history is murderous and a banquet
Inquire at the longevity and breadth of wit
Do not shake a fist at failure

Redemption is my matter at hand
I am accustomed to terror and violence in speech
The plot thickens but oil laps at the shores
Given a good reason a hand will turn to fist

The inklings of success and a misguided youth
You see it now?
My wide eyes and serious walk
Casting glass on pits and fissures

I like the air of calm
A storm can only be seen behind
Is this motion pulling at me?
Am I graceful enough to travel?

The latter years of softness but confusion always
Needs must, though
Forgive my arrogance
Hold a flag for the oncoming hero, he only feels the rain

Books and papers, signs and symbols
Dreams, I believe
Smash away at rocks and numbers
Toil in the caves and upon the steeple

Shine and matte the walls
I shall escape no more
A doldrums has captured me
Chains of lead and ink hold with awkwardness

The network of spiders and worms scurry in my ear
I hear the trickle of lies
A shiver is cutting at the calm
A desire is a heavy sack to lurch with

The roads are not swept with brushes
See the indecision, see the sadness
The wrong road leads to devils
A dead end might lie in your wake

The wails crash on rooftops and scares the crow
Wind is due east
Crowds and polished morality
A shuffle of bone and the click of false suits

I am invisible to the laughter and the pain
Beauty is not a doorway I lean on
Clawing inside a coffin runny with poison and destitution
Say nothing to me, no words

I am a skin of dust and cut off
The bubble shrinks and the cold eases in
Callous destroyer, please end it
End the gasp and the biting tooth

A fondness for a northern track
Lumbering over rail and tram
The change is sweet and must follow a bitterness
Keep me entertained, devils

But you will not let me go
You splinter and lay waste my escape
I will cast you off, but I fear the hour is late
Betrayed!!

The Saddle & The Grave

THE SADDLE & THE GRAVE

The wasted time and grotty inards
I hear nothing but the wails and moans of my arteries
They will not heal
I wish them less

Carry on, they cry, but I warn of rocks and deep falls
Wonders are not to be found, so retire
They are not willing
My ailments crack at medicine and my smile is so short

The heavens are a sturdy breed
Cloud is strong against them
I know the blisters are aching and my skin pale
Our eyes locked in a tearful battle

Ready yourself for suffering
The winter is here
Do not move close to the edge as slips carry us to other lands
Those that are timeless but without destiny

Trials are so brief
Do you know where the water carries?
The splashing is distant and the horizon flat
My ailments call for mercy, they are fiends

The vulture lands on my perch
The canteen is dry and brittle
A beak is under my coat and nuzzles the meat
Or what is left

Will the water carry us?
The lame sink and leave us to our devils
How lonesome we feel with grass
The valley wall and fingers of laughter crush us

An umbarella of steam ignites the charms and graces
Spirits are up and so is our vision
No, nothing, please
Forget my name, just rest in the cradle and push us onwards

The river runs away now, too far off-course
A leaked vessel makes a mockery
Fools look the part
Scorn is the key feeling

A crag or two to hop over, maybe a saddle
Tidings come from the animals
Barks and squeals and chirps
A noise of banter and bleating

Can you hear it?
Something is amiss in this land
Vultures are fat and pigs are starved
The cup is upturned and our broth spills into the hand

Burns follow us where we go
Indeed a sneaky toad
They know more than the thicket and sneer
Good fortune may limit us

Push, push
An end as the last sits to ponder his grave
Leave a light on for the next man, but don’t waste fuel
We sleep, we dream, we drift

This house is a circus

Drama drama drama everywhere. Perhaps not in this house but elsewhere in my sphere of communication. People are an odd sort and prone to great queerness and peculiarities. Truly we need floppy shoes and squirting flowers to complete the picture of greasy make-up and dyed green hair.

Send in the clowns.

I am not fond of these ups and downs and turns in all directions. This head of mine is a dizzy little carnival. Slow down, slow down.

My dad is finding out harsh truths about his ex-girlfriend and her many, many men that were conceled until they began to slip out of the paintwork. He has been taken for a ride, the poor fool, but he has seen the light methinks. I hope he will not get deeper into depression and angst, he deserves more than a pointless feud with the crazed and schizophrenic.

Free us from your grasp, devils!!! We are mere mortals and have no time for such games. Our lives are short, let us savour, not suffer.

Money doesn't grow on trees

I am near repossession and bankrupcy and next week is my girlfriend's birthday. I want to take her around the world on holiday and shower her with flowers and gifts but I can't afford even to feed myself at the moment. There's not much more I can say and I hope she understands what is going on.

There's not much food in the house to snack on as the Tesco van cancelled on mum due to the snow. Although she doesn't usually buy in much anyway and starves herself so she can go on holiday four times a year. Each to his/her own.

I'm stressed, bored, hungry and dry.

Tears

I ended up in tears on the phone to the estate agents. The outlook is grim and the housing assosiation who own the other portion of my house are trying to run buyers and sellers into the ground so they can have first dibs on reposessions.

What an noble trade.

I will email or phone dad to tell him to move in (when he can through all this cursed snow) as it's just too late now. The house can't stand empty for any longer.

Damn them. I will never be set free.

Indoors

The snow is still thick on the ground but at least there has been no fresh fsnow fall today. I just want to get out and go for a walk but it's pointless in this. The shopping delivery has been cancelled.

I've tried getting in contact with people about my house but I'm not getting a great response. What's taking so long? I feel like I'm being punished for other people's slowness. It'll end in tears, I know it.

I can't keep on like this.

Glug glug glug. I want to forget it all with the bottle. Where is my darling poison? Just a pint of vodka or two, that'll hit the spot. Just forget.

Dry

I feel joyless and empty. I feel trapped by the snow and by everything that is happening. I have nothing to look forward to today other than falling asleep and being unconscious. I hope the weather doesn’t stop me going to Manchester on Sunday, I can’t bear not seeing my girlfriend. I hope she still loves me.

I just want to not be myself. I just want to drink and drink and drink and drink and drink and drink and drink until I hover above my head and feel happy out of my body. But I don’t do that anymore. I just want to be free.

Why did the snow have to come now? Are we cursed forever?

I want to go now. I just want to go.

Shall I type until I feel better. I’m not really thinking anything. I can hear a dog barking outside but I don’t think he should be out there. I think the neighbours are playing in their back garden, I’m sure he’s being looked after.

I think Come Dine With Me is on the telly, maybe I should watch it. Some group conflict and social discomfort might brighten my day. Who knows.

Gone now. Gone, gone, gone.

April... May... Dune

They are adapting the science fiction novel Dune for the screen again. I like adaptations and remakes because there shouldn’t have to be one version of anything and I like seeing somebody else having there take on a work of art and creativity.

People cover songs so what's wrong with doing the same with other media?

One day I might get round to reading the book in full and finding out whether David Lynch’s version is true to the text. I love Lynch’s take on the story and it has always been in my list of top favourite films. I like how alive the universe he created feels and even some of the dodgier special effects felt other-worldly.

I’m not too fussed about a new version and still haven’t seen the tv mini-series but I would like to see a longer version of Lynch’s as, like the theatrical cuts of the Lord Of The Rings trilogy, you can actually feel the gaping holes where chunks have been left out. I sort of like that feeling, I like wanting more. Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner was like that, it left a lot to the imagination and half of the film is very much inside your head. It’s good when a film-maker treats you with respect like that.

I suppose Avatar has aroused interest in stories of humans travelling to another planet to mine for precious minerals and fighting with the natives.

Arctic bites

Mum just cooked a simple lunch that had a few fresh vegetables like carrotte and cauliflower and added some bacon and a slice of Jarlesberg cheese on top.

Very tasty. The simple dishes are often the best.

I do fancy some sweets though. This dastardly weather is making me all pekish inside. I just wish there was a St Bernard to hand to provide some brandy.

Oh yeah.

I should look at some job applications this afternoon and, shock horror, even give one ago. It’s hard going over your past when you just want to forget it. Dad has said he will provide a reference for me and said to just change his name so they won’t know we’re related. Technically we did once work for the same organisation so it sort of counts.

To be honest even I wouldn’t hire me after all this mess.

I am pretty good though, just a bit sensitive at times.

I need to have a little more confidence in myself.

Snow go area

Jack Frost has turned his bitter fingers on the nation once again and has covered the kingdom in his sub-zero blanket.

My girlfriend has just rang me to say that she was kicked off the bus half way to work and had to walk the hour-and-a-half (on a good day) journey home in the thick snow. I am glad she is safe.

The city councils will be under scrutiny for not sending the plows and the gritters out early enough to stop such chaos. Shame on them. Will they ever learn how to cope?

It’s a shame really as I could do without being cooped up indoors. I need to stretch my legs. I just hope that my estate agents and solicitors can get to work and sort out the sale of my house.

The elements are, indeed, conspiring against me.

Mum was bragging that it doesn’t really snow in Merseyside due to its location near the Mersey river and the sea, but today has certainly proven otherwise.

I wouldn’t mind a drink but I would like to put off the jolly juice until I have something to celebrate. I have binged recently but I needed to get it out of my system. A grubby spit-and-sawdust pub and a bottomless glass of Guinness is just what the imp inside of me wants. Damn him.

Who knows, maybe this will all melt off sooner rather than later. Mum has cancelled her plans for today so I won’t get much peace and quiet….. although it is her house, so I can’t really complain.

My brother lives just up the road so I wonder if he’s snowed in today, I could always risk shuffling a few yards and have a lads day in, not that either of us are particularly laddish. I do find him exhausting company as he is quite an angry young man.

Melt!! Melt!!

Nowhere Boy

Ah ha, the human side of John Lennon at last.

My girlfriend and I escaped the cold to watch this at the Showroom cinema in Sheffield at the last minute. I think I was initially put off by watching a potential love-in to a man whose status as a genius I’ve never been particularly convinced of.

Using a solo song ("Mother") from his back-catalogue the film Nowhere Boy reminds us that this is not the story of The Beatles but of its founding member, (co...) singer, guitarist and songwriter. It’s a clever way to close matters at a point where you are expecting scenes of tawdry nightclubs in Hamburg.

Kristin Scott Thomas gives a wonderfully restrained performance as a woman constantly on the verge of boiling over and balances so many sides of a character at once that you are almost moved to stand up and applaud her by the end.

Aaron Johnson succeeds in pulling off the tricky task of portraying somebody who is outwardly fairly arrogant and dislikeable and finds some sympathy within, which kept me interested in following his story.

There is a dreadfully miscast actor as the young Paul McCartney who scowls and pouts his way through his scenes which feels at odds with the McCartney we all know. The actor would have been better off as George Harrison with a more lively and enthusiastic soul slotted into the role of Paul.

For some reason, perhaps my own deep cynicism, the scenes where the future members of The Beatles meet and begin forging their future felt quite embarrassing and are not really treated with a great deal of subtlety or originality… but then again Nowhere Boy isn’t a Beatles museum and it’s focus on domestic turmoil and tender emotions are at odds with the crowd pleasing Fab Four moments.

A Disaster Of My Own Design

I do wonder if I will ever be able to live with my girlfriend again. We are so far apart and the logistics are so complicated. My heart breaks every second we are not together but I know we are strong enough to come through this in one piece.

I just hope she does too.

Once my house sells and I can settle my financial worries then I can afford to see her more. At the moment my house is still on the verge of selling and has been since about August/September time. Every week there's a new promise of an exchange date but then nothing.

This sale is tearing me apart and destroying my personal life. People keep asking me what my next step is but I can't seem to feel anything right now, I just want my house to be behind me. I'm not even sure it'll be mine by the time it sells, it'll probably be re-possessed.

I cancelled my direct debits for utility bills months ago as I've not lived there since December 2008.... which I know wasn't clever but I have to prioritise and what's most important is the mortgage payments and council tax. Will they be hunting for blood? I will settle things once I've sold, but for now they will have to wait.

I'm too afraid to check my bank balance or to open lettters. I want to be free of this mess and start again without all this chaos and confusion.

I want to be with my girlfriend and hold her forever. Neither of us wants to settle for an ordinary life and we are both fed up with how things are. My self esteme is low due to the mess I have made for myself and she is fed up with where she works and where she lives.

Will we ever be set free from this prison of lethargy?

The End

Or the start, I'm not sure anymore. The last two years have been a steady limbo world which I'm not sure I'll ever escape from.

Nomad Jim seems like a good name to use here as I am virtually homeless were it not for a house that is taking forever to sell.

My house is in Cambridgeshire, my girlfriend is in South Yorkshire, my dad is in Suffolk, my mum is in Merseyside and I'm here, on the internet.... possibly the only steady home available to me.

My geographical position is Merseyside, but I want to be anywhere but.

I'm jobless and and don't particularly want to work again, but I need to. I want to do something creative with my life, either creative writing, songwriting or - what I'm flirting with at the moment - comedy writing.

The problem with creative writing is that it takes time and I'm impatient. The problem with songwriting is that I'm not a great instrumentalist and I can't sing. The problem with comedy writing is that I'm not naturally funny, I just think the form and structure of comedy is interesting.

I am also disabled, visually impaired to be precise, and being “on the road” with creativity is hard when you are night blind and have tunnel vision and are reliant 100% on public transport.

I feel stalled and tired of not moving.

When I explain how I feel it comes out wrong.

I want to live, but I'm not sure how.

Any ideas?